


The Absolution

by Neelee



Series: Good and Beautiful [2]
Category: Grace and Frankie (TV)
Genre: Coming Out, F/F, F/M, Gay Male Character, Lesbian Character, M/M, Post-Season/Series 04
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-08
Updated: 2018-07-08
Packaged: 2019-06-06 22:02:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,747
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15204401
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Neelee/pseuds/Neelee
Summary: Robert quirked his eyebrows and waited. Grace was drawing it out on purpose, he could sense it, possibly because she enjoyed the moment of telling so much. And there it was: “I had sex with Frankie.” Grace tilted her head a bit and straightened her posture, eyes shining and cheeks slightly burning. This was her payback.





	The Absolution

**Author's Note:**

> This happens right after my other post S4 story _For wherever you go I will go,_ but you don't have read it first - just imagine that Grace and Frankie are now happily together! In this story the focus is on Grace and Robert and their shared past. 
> 
> Thank you @chainofclovers for doing the beta for me! I needed all the kind encouragement you gave me, as well as the great help I got with my grammar and wordings. I appreciate it SO much!

Grace had said on the phone “there’s something I want to talk about with you" and Robert was astonished because Grace hadn’t sounded quite like herself. The “something” was something Grace was excited about. The “want to talk” was a genuine wish coming from Grace and the “with you” was almost warm, a bit excited, just like the “something”. Robert hadn’t seen Grace and Frankie’s new place yet, but Grace’s invitation to stop by that afternoon wasn’t apparently about a sightseeing.

And now Robert was seated on a couch to hear about that something. He looked at Grace who was settling to an armchair right next to him. Robert hadn’t ever really liked anybody’s feet, not even Sol’s, but now he felt a sudden endearment when he saw Grace’s bare feet on the footstool. He hadn’t ever liked Grace’s habit to kick off her shoes whenever possible. Walking around barefoot didn’t fit in the general picture of Grace Hanson, but for some reason she did it anyway, at home and at the beach house. Of course not when they had thrown dinner parties and such, but if it had been just the Bergsteins, Robert could remember Grace sitting with her ‘why don’t these people leave already’ martini after the dinner, bare feet hanging over an armrest.

Sometimes Robert had felt almost sick of seeing Grace’s feet, not to talk about touching them accidentally. Not like they were ugly feet, far away from that - slender, well-groomed and always with flawless nail polish. But they were a woman’s feet, there was no way of going around that. For some reason he had chosen to stay married to this woman years and years after it all had stopped to make any sense.

“So, why am I here?” Robert crossed his arms, making an effort to give Grace a friendly smile that didn’t let his bubbling curiosity show.

Grace fiddled with a tissue, crossing her legs one more time. In Robert’s eyes, she didn’t look really nervous, it was more impatience mixed with something else. Possibly joy?

“Robert, I’m telling you something which you of all people actually don’t deserve to hear first. But I’m telling you first anyway, because I specifically want to tell you.”

Robert quirked his eyebrows and waited. Grace was drawing it out on purpose, he could sense it, possibly because she enjoyed the moment of telling so much. And there it was:

“I had sex with Frankie.” Grace tilted her head a bit and straightened her posture, eyes shining and cheeks slightly burning. This was her payback.

Robert couldn’t tell right away what he felt, but it wasn’t anything which would cause a clear visible reaction. Grace looked at him intensely, apparently wanting to have some kind of feedback. Robert knew this one - once again he couldn’t respond in a way that would please Grace.

“Are you surprised?”

“Yes. But mostly because you told me first, I think.”

“Okay.” Grace was impatient again, probably wanting to tell more, but she also was smart enough to know that Robert would need a moment to let the news sink in.

“I don’t know what I am supposed to say now. Erm, I’m not starting with ‘was it good', because I can see that for you it’s good news.”

“It _was_ good.” Grace’s smile was jubilant. Robert saw very clearly the absolute surrealism of the moment - Grace gladly telling him that she had got laid. This wasn’t like the time when Grace had set up the meeting with Guy and Robert. Grace had done it to show off, for obvious reasons, but now Grace was genuinely eager to share the good news with him.

The Frankie part of this all hadn’t yet settled in Robert’s mind - the couple of pictures flashing through his head weren’t anything he necessarily wanted to take a closer look at - but Frankie wasn’t the biggest news. It was Grace _sharing_. And with him, Robert Hanson.

“Okay.” Robert cracked a smile, and he couldn’t help it: he smiled a smile which was almost as broad as Grace’s. Yes, he was genuinely happy for this new Grace, and for the old one too, whose experiences of their marital life had to be somewhere in there, among the many layers of Grace Hanson. Robert knew that part of his joy was relief, a great part of his guilt being suddenly gone. _He hadn’t spoiled it all for Grace, not for ever._ Part of the guilt had already left when he and Grace had talked about Sol’s and Frankie’s wishes concerning their earthly remains. _“Frankie wants to be shot into outer space.” “Boy, we ended up with weird people.”_ As Grace had added that she hadn’t chosen Frankie, she hadn’t sounded sorry at all.

Robert could finally form a sentence, in the middle of this absurd moment which included both of them grinning wildly.

"Does it change anything?”

“Not really.” Grace blushed a little, maybe at the thought of Frankie and their life together, then shrugged it off and shifted a little in her chair.

Robert thought that if Grace was going to be even one third this cheerful from now on, it _was_ a change. Then again, Grace had been quite cheerful with Frankie all along.

“I mean, we’re like married already.” Grace gestured in the general direction of their bedrooms. Or bedroom? When Robert looked around he could see something, or maybe it was just the scent of the recently painted walls - this was more _their_ home than the beach house had been. Robert felt a sting when he thought about the house: again the guilt, this old mate of his, always there but always put aside. The beach house which he and Sol had bought to have a convenient place to spend time together. Well, if it hadn’t been for the beach house, Grace wouldn’t have ended up with her weird person in the first place, so… Robert took a deep breath, collecting himself, maybe with a little bit better posture.

The apartment was cozier than he would have expected of Grace, and it was also messier. Robert couldn’t blame Frankie for all of it - he had a hunch that Grace just hadn’t bothered to tidy up for him. That maybe Grace had been sitting on the balcony before he arrived, planning what to say, and not caring at all about how everything looked like.

Of course Grace had cared how she looked like herself. The happy Grace Hanson was still the Grace Hanson he knew, with impeccable makeup and hair. But there was a slight difference which he hadn’t caught right away. Maybe it was about how Grace moved, or sat, or breathed. How she _was_. Like she radiated the message that she had succeeded in something she had been trying all her life. It was very likely the ardor of a woman who had got properly laid, but there was a lot more to it. Like she had succeeded, and understood that it actually wasn’t about success. _Like I understood when I started sleeping with Sol._

Robert wasn’t ready to talk about anything like that with Grace, maybe was never going to do it. But just having the 40 years’ failure called marriage indirectly on the table was already breaking against the (former) Hanson rules: don’t admit that you were wrong, don’t let it show that you’re unsure or hurt. How the hell had they ended up there, and made it through?

“Where is Frankie actually?”

“Having a little chat with Sol.”

Of course. Robert didn’t feel so special anymore, having this moment with Grace. Being special, that was the feeling he could remember from the very early days with her. He just couldn’t understand how lucky he was to have that stunningly beautiful and smart person next to him. There were the admiring looks she gave to him and the admiring looks she got from other people. He felt that he got his share of them too, because now finally he was a part of a couple, a man with a beautiful woman.

Grace’s sharp tongue had been a constant joy for him, giving rapid-fire assessments of the people around them. He had felt special being on the same side as Grace, making her laugh when he added his own comments on the flaws and weaknesses of others. Little did he know - the times when they used their special skills against each other were just around the corner. First it had been kind inside jokes, then inside jokes with a sharp edge. At some point they had almost stopped talking: if you didn’t say anything, you wouldn’t get a verbal knife back. It was hard enough to get those knives, and even harder to pretend that they didn’t hurt. Robert tried to shrug the memory off.

“Are you going to be out and proud, or is it too early to ask?”

Grace looked a little distracted and Robert could sense that her thoughts had been in the 1980’s as well.

“I’ve been thinking more about the past, actually.”

“Uh-huh?” Was Grace really going there, to their miserable sex life? Robert still felt relieved after Grace’s recent revelation, but talking about their marriage felt highly uncomfortable.

“Don’t freak out, Robert, we don’t have to go through it all in detail. And if you wish, we don’t have to speak about it all.”

“You... you mean speak about _what,_ exactly?”

“Me pretending so much, especially in bed. Did you see through it all?” Now Grace was again different from what Robert knew. Her voice almost soft and quiet, her fierce eyes looking right into his. Robert had to look away. Grace seemed to pick up on his discomfort. “Oh, sorry, we don’t have to go there. All I wanted to say was that I’m sorry. For me, and for you.”

What the hell, was he crying? God damn it, not again. Robert wiped his eyes with his sleeve, almost shocked.

Grace stood up to find some tissues and sat next to him on the couch. “Come here, man with feelings.”

Robert found himself in Grace’s firm hug. They had hugged a couple of times during the past years, and it still felt odd, after the many years of touching her very little.

Robert couldn't talk, and he couldn’t shut down the flashbacks from their early years. They were already in their late twenties when they met, and for the first time Robert understood clearly that Grace had been just like him, that she had decided to get married, and after checking the options available, he had been chosen. For Grace it had been primarily about doing the thing people _normally_ do in their lives, and for Robert too, but he also thought about having kids. Having a home with kids.

And then the misery of their sex life. For some time it had been a little exciting, maybe for both of them. Robert had first been so relieved that he could give some kind of performance. Not passionate, but like he was good enough. That he was _passing_. The relief of passing didn’t motivate him - or them? - for a long time, and making up excuses not to have sex was so easy. Not like they really would have talked about it, and it didn’t feel like a shared experience at the time. It was like a bitter compromise in their ‘let’s be just like everybody else, and even better’ project - the sex part of it didn’t work so well, but luckily it didn’t show on the outside as a failed performance. Or so he thought back then.

“Robert… did you ever think about it - I mean me and Frankie - that there was something kind of… developing?”

Robert found his way out of Grace’s embrace. He looked at her face, now that he had it so close. Her nose, her lips, her chin and all the lines. Something so familiar, but also completely unknown. And he was so relieved that it was no longer his job to find out what this woman was all about. No matter how reluctant he’d been to do the job, a failure still felt like a failure. “No, not really. I… always thought it was about me. My fault that you were not happy. I think I never went further than that.”

“Well, I wouldn’t say I’ve been just unhappy the last years, the time I’ve been with Frankie.”

“I noticed a change when she was in Santa Fe. But all I really thought about was ‘oh shit, now Grace is lonely, should I be a better ex-husband and invite her over more often…’ I thought about myself, if I was doing enough.”

“Robert. Try to get this: I can take care of myself. I appreciate your concern when it comes from a friend, but… I’m not taking _anything_ from a guilty ex-husband.” Grace’s words might have been harsh, but she suddenly touched Robert’s cheek with her fingers and smiled softly.

Robert felt tears burning his eyes again, shame and relief bumping to each other in his chest, relief growing bigger and bigger by every word Grace said. As she opened her mouth to go on talking, fear made Robert’s stomach cramp, because he was not sure if he was able to process any more truths about himself.

“So… just let me go, on all levels. You’ve done... enough.”

Robert hoped that it was her final absolution. No, she went on talking.

“And you know what, Robert. It hit me hard when you once said you were terribly sorry because you didn’t love me back - I couldn’t say then ‘hold on a sec, I never loved you either', but that’s what crossed my mind. I needed to think it over first, and now I can say that. But I’m also saying that I love you _now._ ”

“I love you too, _now._ " The words escaped Robert’s lips and felt very true, even though the shame part felt huge again and he couldn’t stop crying. It wasn’t only shame, it was also bitterness - all the pretending, all the energy he had wasted on it, it had been in vain. He had been stupid, he hadn’t seen it. And he felt that he had just lost something. _Because it would have been nice to be loved by someone._ Even though he hadn’t been able to love her back.

“Hey.” Grace nudged him and wiped a tear from her own cheek, giving him a crooked little smile. “What about a drink? I mean, could we be done with sharing?”

Grace tried to find them a way back to normal and Robert was more than willing to go along. His breathing became steadier right away when he saw Grace grabbing glasses. He didn’t know if he wanted to curse or thank the universe for giving him this woman.

Holding a glass in his hand Robert found the courage to play with fire again. “Grace, I’d like to ask about the night when Madison was born at the beach house and you told me that you were going to retire. Did you… did you really want to give us a try, to reconnect?”

Grace stopped her movement and looked at Robert almost scared. No, Grace Hanson was never scared. But she might be a bit taken aback.

Grade smiled sadly. “Honestly, I don’t know. Maybe it was something I thought I was expected to do. Or…” Grace didn’t look at Robert anymore, and Robert was holding his breath, because now it was Grace struggling with looking their past right in the eye. There was a sharp edge to Grace’s voice when she went on talking: “Or maybe it was the only possible future I could think of?”

Grace wiped her eyes. “But I remember being genuinely emotional that night, so proud of Brianna, so proud of Mallory, and maybe for a very short moment, happy to have our freaky extended family with the Bergsteins.”

“So I would have been a jerk if I had blown it all then and come out then?”

“Robert, it doesn’t matter. Just let go of it. And have your drink.” She raised her glass. "To the Bergsteins!" Grace downed her drink, not bothering to clink glasses with him first.

To the Bergsteins, Robert silently repeated. To honesty. To Grace with whom he could go funeral shopping, and who didn't make him speak about his emotions. To Grace who loved him, now.


End file.
